


The Ever-Important Question Of (Human) Balance

by steelphoenix



Category: Iskryne Series - Elizabeth Bear & Sarah Monette
Genre: Every Marine a Wolfbrother, Female Protagonist, Gen, Original Character(s), POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelphoenix/pseuds/steelphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Dira Sudis' <i>Every Marine A Wolfbrother</i> Series.</p>
<p>Family is one of the hardest things to deal with; Pack can be too. A New Zealand Army soldier discovers what makes family and pack different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ever-Important Question Of (Human) Balance

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Which in Your Case You Have Not Got](https://archiveofourown.org/works/223466) by [Dira Sudis (dsudis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis). 



> This work was inspired by Dira Sudis' _Every Marine A Wolfbrother_ Series ([here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/10153)), and I'd like to thank her for letting me play in her sandbox! 
> 
> The basis of this fic is that I got thinking about how other militaries in the Wolf-verse would work - in particular, that of my country, New Zealand. Which naturally lead to me creating a story... Hopefully you enjoy it!
> 
> Title from Henry Reed's [Unarmed Combat](http://www.solearabiantree.net/namingofparts/unarmedcombat.html).

_Near Waiouru Army Base, Central Plateau, New Zealand, 2003_

Kahu _whuffs_ out a breath, chill in the thin air of the Central Plateau. _I can hear them, not clearly but there,_ she says through the bond, not bothering to direct it out into the pack-sense. Her ears twitch back and forth, _They’re tramping about the bush like a bunch of day-old pups. Fucktards._ She looks back to her sister, her mouth open in a wolfish grin.

_Good,_ replies Kat, with an echoed grin, digging her hand into the thick, dark ruff at Kahu’s neck, just above the CamelBak harness. _Hearing range confirmation: hitting edge of range, sir,_ she sends out into the pack-sense, feeling the acknowledgement, thanks, and _RTB_ from the Captain.

She rises, brushing brown hair back behind her ears and re-adjusting her helmet. _This is the last of this random retarded craziness?_ asks Kahu as they begin jogging back to temporary CP. _I like running as much as the next wolf, but it’s starting to get boring now._

Kat laughs, “Yeah, this is the last of it. We’ll be off to Afghanistan shortly.” Kahu sneezes, shaking her head, the wolf equivalent of _Pfft, yeah right,_ which makes her sister laugh again. “I’ll have you know we were selected from a long list of candidates for this role.”

_Which we got only because of my excellent ears,_ declares Kahu in a superior tone.

Kat grins down at her wolf, flicking at one of the aforementioned ears, and says, “Well, you’ll have to use them up in the mountains, Ka, better tune them in.” Kahu snorts, and stretches out her stride so that the soldier has to push to keep up. “No fair!” she protests, the warmth of the bond taking away any sting in her tone.

The 17km jog back to the CP is relatively quick – mostly downhill – but Kat spends the entire time just soaking in the environment. Tussock, scrubby grass, dark soil, small copses of trees; the single harrier hawk – Kahu’s namesake – circling above; Mount Ruapehu a magnificent snow-capped giant off to their right. She sighs, feeling a certain melancholy slip through her excitement. New Zealand is the place of her birth, the country she serves, and nothing is quite like it; she inevitably got a little homesick on deployments, as everyone did. Her deployments had taught her ways to cope, but it didn’t mean it didn’t happen.

She feels a bump on her leg, and looks down. _Don’t be sad,_ says Kahu. The wolf had circled back, now trotting close to her side. _We’re not even gone yet._

“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” Kat re-adjusts her [Steyr](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bomctrn_9qc&feature=fvst), resting her hand lightly on the wolf’s ruff, swinging back and forth with their run. Wolf logic is simple, but not always easy to apply. 

_Silly pup,_ Kahu says, sending an image of a wolf cub with Kat’s green eyes, and dances out of range before Kat’s swipe can touch her, mouth open in a wolf-laugh. Kat sends back an image of a mother wolf nosing at her pups – a wolf who looks like Kahu, black-and-brown fur with a creamy face, chest, belly and legs, golden eyes laughing. _Looking after me._

_That’s what I’m here for,_ replies Kahu, trotting ahead, tail waving like a fluffy flag.

As they approach the CP, they get the greeting of Captain Holloway’s big black wolf, Tane, the solid push of his scent-name, _windy ridge above a kauri forest._ Come see us, is the immediate addendum. Kahu sends immediate acknowledgement in the form of their scent-names, _winter wind on the Hauraki Plains_ and _waterfall-pool in the deep bush,_ and they trot over to the Captain. Kat salutes, then settles at-ease, Kahu sat on her haunches, both of them tall and proud.

“Lieutenant Hawken,” the Captain nods, smiling wide. “Hearing range confirmation complete. Good stuff, she’s got easily a kilometer on any of our other wolves. Any comments?”

“No comments, sir. Thank you, sir,” replies Kat, pride in Kahu swelling. She pulls it back from the pack-sense a little, sharing it only with her wolf. Kahu sends back equal pride in her human.

“Head over to with the rest of the platoon, we’re still waiting on Macey, Kiel, and Tanirau,” says Holloway, with a smile. “Dismiss.”

Kat salutes neatly, Holloway returns it, and the two of them trot over to where a group of men, women and wolves wait, the Signals platoon that will be taking Communications command at Provincial Reconstruction Team Bamyan. The other soldiers – all NCOs and Signallers – salute, and she returns it quickly. “Ranges?” she asks, grinning over at Staff Sergeant Miller, the seniormost Signals NCO, and his sister Ivy.

“Ranges?” Miller grins, “All upwards of 12k for hearing and 1.5k for scent, sir. Ivy got 15.9 and 2.7, and you, Miss Kahu,” – he looks down at the wolf at Kat’s side – “As I’m sure you’re aware, got 17.1 and 2.8, which makes you top bitch again.”

_Officers,_ Ivy says, affectionate, and Kahu trots over to her, bumping shoulders with her and nosing the scruff of Ivy’s neck – an obvious reminder of who is in command, here – and Ivy amends to, _Officer-quality wolf, then. Whatever._ The tone is still affectionate, just a little more respectful. The grey-and-white wolf tilts her head, exposing her neck momentarily, which satisfies Kahu.

There’s a lull as they wait, and one of the Signalers starts humming [‘Slice of Heaven’](). It echoes through the pack-sense as a couple of the others take it up. Kat grins as a couple of the wolves start to make noise in rhythm. Soon, the entire platoon is singing along; everyone knows the song. It’s one of the rare moments of downtime, which will be nonexistent when they hit Afghanistan.

\---

The only downside of having a full-grown wolf, as far as Kat can see, is that sportsbikes are quite out of the question. Her beloved Honda CBR 600RR, at home at Linton, is a solitary pleasure, one that she can’t indulge in with Kahu. However, her wolf – who’d spent a good amount of time firmly strapped to her pillion seat as a cub – was not about to give up _going so much faster than any wolf can run,_ as she put it. So when they’re released on departure leave, the bike of choice is a World War Two-era Army bike with sidecar, still originally fitted out for wolves. Kahu loves the goggles, helmet and jacket that Kat insists on for safety, even if the motorcycle shop had looked askance at her when she got them.

As they zoom through the countryside, Kat can hear Kahu’s pure joy singing through the bond, and her own heart swells in response. The wolf, as the woman, is never happier than when about to go on a mission, and going to Afghanistan is a huge adventure – a huge challenge – for both of them. They’d been looking forward to it since the PRT had been announced, and had applied immediately. Being chosen had been both a surprise and an achievement, and both of them had been very proud.

Kat’s parents had been less proud and more worried.

That was why she was on her way to see them – maybe rest their minds a little about it. They’d never understood why she wanted to be in the Army, and actually volunteering to go to one of the most hostile places on Earth was far from a good idea, in their minds.

Kahu’s warm presence wraps around her mind; _Don’t worry. Your dam and sire might not understand, but your Pack does._

Kat nods, _I know,_ turning her mind to focusing on the road – but her hand strays down from the handlebar, gently twining in Kahu’s ruff.

\---

“How’d you parents take it?” asks Miller, as they shoulder packs, getting ready to board the Hercules that will take them to Afghanistan.

It’s drizzling lightly, but there’s no cover where they’re waiting. Their parkas are keeping out most of the rain, but inevitably some is trickling down the back of her neck, just annoying enough to be distracting. They’re hardly the only unit stuck here waiting – most of the first posting of the PRT are waiting while their supplies are loaded aboard four Hercules. While the humans are stuck waiting, most of the platoon’s wolves, including Kahu, are off playing some variant of tag; they know they’ll be stuck in the Herc for hours on end, and wolves are indifferent flyers at best. The pack-sense is fizzing with excitement at the prospect of a new mission, and it’s infecting everyone, even the wolfless Air Force personnel.

“Pretty badly,” Kat replies, shaking her head and checking her kitbag for the twentieth time. There’s a spark of discomfort, unhappiness at her parents’ inability to reconcile themselves with her chosen career. Catching her human’s emotion, Kahu abruptly freezes, her head popping up. She tilts her head, querying, _Your sire and dam?_

Kat throws her a thought, _Don’t worry,_ but knowing that Kahu will come and check her anyway. Sure enough, the wolf begins to trot over. She turns back to Miller, “Nothing I can really do – they don’t really get it. But it’s not like they’re begging me not to go, they just want to make sure I keep in touch.”

Miller nods sympathetically. “Yeah, I get that.”

Captain Holloway and Tane trot down the ramp of the Hercules, followed by an Air Force Flight Lieutenant, one of the Logistics Regiment Captains, and three other Air Force personnel. As Holloway crosses the tarmac, he pushes a strong _Form up for final inspection_ through the pack-sense. Immediately, the soldiers begin to straighten up and ready themselves, wolves jogging back to sit at their sides.

“At ease,” is the first thing the Captain says, grinning at them and clearly very ready to go, his part of the pack-sense bright with readiness. “Right. I don’t need to say this again, but we’re going into an uncertain situation. Our boys have gotten the site pretty well ready, but we don’t have much idea of the actualities, and the Americans have mostly removed their equipment. The locals are not openly hostile, but be careful. In all likelihood, we’re going to be flat-tack for the first few weeks just getting things up to scratch. This is Flight Lieutenant McPherson, please pay him and his crew every courtesy.” He gestures to the Flight Lieutenant, who nods thanks. 

There’s a respectful “Yes sir,” from the entire platoon, a couple of wolves nodding – even if they don’t quite understand what he’s saying.

“Master Aircrewman Hakehe will explain the loading procedure,” adds the Captain, and leaves the platoon in the Master Aircrewman’s capable hands. The next twenty minutes are a nightmare of getting one platoon of Signals and two platoons of Logistics on board the Hercules. 

As the ramp comes up, all Kat can think is, _There’s probably not going to be that kind of rain in Afghanistan._

\---

 _PRT Bamyan, Bamyan Province, Afghanistan, 2003_

There isn’t. It’s too warm or too cold, and while the scenery is undoubtedly spectacular, it’s not what they’re used to, not by a long chalk. Going from New Zealand spring to Afghan autumn is a shock – colder and much drier. As September turns into October, it becomes more cold than warm, and most of the platoon takes to wearing keffiyehs about their necks to ward off odd chills. 

As the Captain had predicted, they’re hideously busy for the first weeks – setting up comms systems, getting IT equipment to work in desert conditions, establishing rosters and getting the place to function as a PRT base rather than an operating base. The LNO teams are flat-tack taking over from the preliminary US teams, busy being introduced to the local tribal and government leaders. The pack-sense of the PRT begins to develop, never as strong any of the individual platoons and detachments, but nevertheless there.

Like everyone else, Kat has no time to think; she collapses into bed with Kahu, often not even getting changed. It barely occurs to her that she hasn’t contacted anyone at home, so when the satphone first gets made available for personal use with permission, she doesn’t bother to get in the line.

When she calls for the first time, a fortnight in, she’s tired after a long day’s work. Kahu is sacked out in a puppy-pile with three of the other bitches, a warm, sleepy presence in Kat’s mind and about all that’s keeping her upright. 

Her mother picks up. The greetings are awkward, and the small-talk is stilted. Kat has the feeling that something is wrong, and it’s confirmed when she says, “Katherine. I appreciate that you are in a difficult position, but don’t you think that you should have called earlier?”

Kat’s stomach drops with worry, and she fights to keep her voice level. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy. Setting up a base is hard work. Kahu and I are just so tired.”

“Did you not have five minutes to call while you were dealing with that wolf of yours?” It’s that tone that Kat’s dreaded all twenty-five years of her life – one that said that her mother isn’t going to budge. If she’d been a teenager, it would’ve been an instant grounding.

“Didn’t have satphone access,” Kat replies, doing her level best to remain neutral and casual, despite the insult to Kahu. “I called as soon as I could. We don’t exactly have the most stable comms up here. Anyway, are you and Dad well? What’s going on?”

“Don’t try to divert me, young lady!” She’s clearly incensed. “Bad enough when you were in the Solomons and Timor! We worry, you know!”

“Mum,” says Kat, trying to interrupt. She can see where this is going, and she rolls her eyes.

“And not to mention that you didn’t even consult us when you went and joined up!”

That is a sore point – on both sides. Who were they to decide her career? Kat snaps, “It’s my life, mum, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Honestly, I called as soon as I could.”

There’s an indignant _huff_ from the other end of the line, “It’s not soon enough. It’s like you’re not making any effort at all.”

“Mum,” says Kat, “I’m trying. It’s not easy, here.” She can feel Kahu stirring, woken by her distress. The wolf sends a sleepy, half-formed image of a mother wolf, the feeling of total protection and comfort.

“Katharine, if you can’t be bothered to contact us, don’t do it at all.” Her mother’s tone is chilly and absolutely serious.

Kat is gobsmacked, horrified and hurt, like someone scooped out her guts and stamped on them. It’s something that’s never been said, however close they’ve gotten to it. She can’t imagine a world where she doesn’t talk to her parents every two or three days. Abruptly, Kahu’s sense changes, wolf-anger and the desire to hurt the person who hurt Kat absolute. Kat can feel the wolf racing towards her.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she says, her voice small and lost, like she feels.

“Then don’t. Katharine, I have had enough of this. Don’t call until you’re back in New Zealand.”

The phone goes dead.

Kat looks down at it, cold and black in her hand, dumbstruck. Her heart is a confusion of terror and disbelief and pain and abandonment, and she has no idea what to do with it.

Then Kahu is a solid weight against her legs – the only thing real in the world – and Kat drops to her knees, burying her hands in the thick fur of the wolf’s back and neck, stroking mindlessly as Kahu wraps her mind in warmth and acceptance and love, the unconditional love of the wolf soothing the ice-cold hurt. Her eyes are burning, but she can’t cry, too numb with shock.

Then suddenly, the pack-sense is wrapped close around her, as the echo of her distress rolls out. The platoon’s pack-sense curls around her, comforting and warm, and filled with _pack, safe, brothers/sisters, comfort, home, accepted_ and the extended sense of the PRT touching her with sympathy and warmth.

Getting a hold of herself, she pulls her emotions in, stuffing them deep back down, sending out _Thanks, sorry, bad news from home_ into the pack-sense. She feels the acknowledgement, the senses beginning to retreat, leaving her with the platoon’s pack-sense still warm about her, the calming touch of Captain Hollister and the rock-steady warmth of Miller close in and clearly monitoring. _We’re here,_ is the gentle sense from them, and suddenly, there are other wolfish warmths at her back. Ivy noses at her hair, and Tane’s head comes to rest heavy on her shoulder.

Kahu’s sense is still worried and angry, and carefully, she allows a spiral of emotion out to Kahu, _My parents don’t want to talk to me any more._ She tried to convey how it hurt – but all she could come up with was when she and Kahu had met one of Kahu’s littermates, and the other wolf had been unfriendly, had not remembered the litter’s pack-sense.

_Oh,_ says Kahu. _Losing pack is bad... But we are your pack now, and we won’t ever make you go away._

_I know, Kahu. I love you,_ says Kat, holding back her emotions as best she can, her wolf’s love threatening to break the thin dam she has pieced together.

_It’s okay,_ comes Ivy’s thought, _We’re here. We’ll shield you. We’re your pack, and you’re safe with us._

_We will not let anyone hurt you,_ is Tane’s thought, thick with distaste for those who abandon their cubs and pack. He’s actually growling, and Kat reaches a hand over her shoulder, sliding into the silky black fur behind the wolf’s ears, caressing, thanking, taking comfort.

Kahu is licking her face with a rough tongue, and it takes Kat a moment to realize that the tang she’s feeling on her tongue isn’t her own sensation – it’s Kahu, tasting tears she hadn’t realised she’d finally let fall. The sadness wells, and she lets them flow silently, trying to let go as quietly and manageably as possible.

_It’ll be okay,_ Kahu says, nuzzling her nose in under Kat’s chin – something she’d done as a cub, when she was scared and needed comfort. Now it’s reversed. _It’ll be okay._

\---

October disappears into November, and snow begins to coat the base more often than not. The first building projects start at the end of October, improving infrastructure and local buildings. Comms and networks are sound, and the Sigs are constantly improving them. The LNO teams are having successes, and have made strong connections with some local tribal leaders. The PRT pack-sense is stronger, and there’s a general sense of accomplishment hanging over the base.

Kat’s latest mission is escorting one of the US Army LNOs – Second Lieutenant Balmer – to a meeting with one of the tribal leaders. Being female, she’s had to wait outside the mosque that the meeting is being held in. Balmer’s wolf, Siggy, is sitting beside Kahu; he’s pure Arctic bloodlines, and his pale cream-and-white is starting to disappear into the lightly-falling snow. He yawns; the PRT pack-sense carries a sense of boredom from Balmer. _It’s that kind of day,_ she thinks to herself. _Slow and kind of boring._

Sapper Horokia and his wolf Curry are outside with them, watching their sectors well. The wolf isn’t quite grown yet, and it shows in his rangy limbs and constant motion. Kahu is feeling rather superior, sitting straight and tall beside her human, watching her sector. As Kat watches, Curry pads over to the Humvee, rearing up on his hind legs so he can reach the roof to sniff at Bazza, Corporal Landers’ wolf. Clearly, he’s checking that they’re okay. Kat can hear the rebuke from Bazza – _We’re okay. Just like the last fifteen times you checked_ – and she smirks.

Suddenly, remembers her mother’s concern when she’d first brought Kahu home, and the curious young wolf had constantly been trotting around, sniffing things – “Is she meant to do that, dear?” The inevitable hint of pain surfaces, and savagely, she stuffs it down. Kat has mostly made her peace with her family problems, but occasionally, it still hurts – thankfully in ways that didn’t get in the way of her combat effectiveness.

_You know, repressing is a bad idea,_ says Kahu, cheekily. Kat doesn’t bother asking where she got that from, and just rolls her eyes, sending a spark of _okay-coping-stray thought-no problem_ over the bond. Kahu sneezes, shaking her head, and Kat smiles down at her wolf with a raised eyebrow.

There’s movement at the entrance, and Kat turns to see Balmer and the group of leaders he’d been discussing with. He is making polite farewells, pushing his glasses up his nose in a nervous gesture. There’s a sense of vague dissatisfaction and _didn’t go as well as it could’ve_ in his part of the pack-sense. As he turns away from the group, Kat taps Horokia on the shoulder, signaling for him to get in the Humvee and get ready to drive.

In a couple of minutes, they’re barreling down the road, heading back to PRT Bamyan. The wolves are all hanging out the windows – Curry and Kahu sharing windowspace, practically over top of Kat – and the mood in the vehicle is good. Balmer, behind Kat, is playing some kind of guessing game with Landers, their wolves joining in occasionally. They’re all covering their sectors well.

They round a corner, and suddenly, there’s a tree in the road. It’s scraggly, bent, but still a full-size tree and still more than the Humvee can get over.

Something prickles on the back of Kat’s neck, and she looks up and around. Other than the deep ditches at the sides of the road, the area is a gentle slope with not much cover – not terrain for an ambush. _Kahu, are there any people around?_ she asks, knowing that her wolf’s phenomenal senses will have picked up anything.

_I don’t know. There’s some sheep upwind and it’s messing with things – and the snow muffles everything_ , replies the wolf, clearly put-out. _It’s been too long since we did snow exercises_ , replies Kat.

Kat toggles her radio and quickly advises base of their situation. “PRT Base Bamyan to LDO Five-Bravo, status acknowledged, please advise of any situational update. Over,” comes the reply, the familiar tones of Sergeant Scott. She can’t hear the Sigs pack-sense from here, but she reaches for it out of habit, and then curses herself privately.

“LDO Five-Bravo to PRT Base. Will update situation as appropriate. Over and out,” she responds, keeping the sigh out of her voice until the toggle slips. There’s nothing for it. They have to move it if they want to continue. Horokia has to stay by the vehicle to drive, and Balmer is too valuable as a liaison. “Engine off, Horokia,” she orders, echoing in images through the pack-sense. “You and Curry cover our left. Balmer, you and Siggy cover our right. Landers, you and I will move the tree. Kahu and Bazza, keep your ears peeled for anything.”

“Sir,” comes the quick acknowledgement from the two Engineers, already moving to get out, checking weapons. Balmer is slow to reply, his pack-sense raw with _I should be in charge_ , and Kat turns to look at him as she climbs out. She catches his eye, pushing her seniority through the pack-sense, daring him to refuse. His jaw clenches, and then he adjusts his glasses and replies, “Yes, ma’am.” 

Landers has already jogged over to the tree, and is checking out the ends. As Kat comes up to him, he reports, “Cut at one end, sir. Deliberate.” He looks up, and Kat can see fear in the Corporal’s eyes. There’s a sudden rush of fear through the pack-sense, and Kat feels the wolves’ ears set back.

“Then let’s move it ASAP,” she replies, her own heart starting to speed up. _Keep alert-rival pack_ echoes into the pack-sense. She slings her Steyr as she crouches beside him.

After a minute of assessment and back-and-forth, she and Landers grab the cut end. The tree is heavy, but they can move it – albeit awkwardly. Lifting and walking, they spin the tree around, parallel to the ditch.

_MEN!_ screams Kahu through the pack-sense, broadcast loud and clear to the whole team. Kat catches the slightest snarl of _should have smelled them earlier_ before the wolf is in battle-mode, broadcasting the exact location of the hostiles – up the hill on their right. The locations spread out as she follows faint traces out to others.

Landers practically throws the tree away, making Kat stumble, dropping to one knee. The tree drops with a _thump,_ overlaid by a sudden, sharp _crack._ She has a sudden moment of panic – _what’s broken?_ – then she identifies it as a gunshot, and the panic is subsumed into _action._

_Crack-crack. Zip-zip. AK_ , Kat’s mind supplies without prompting. She unslings her Steyr, thumbing off the safety and firing a short burst to her three. Balmer and Horokia are returning fire from behind the Humvee, Siggy low on his belly by the opposite ditch, all-but-invisible against the snow. Curry, Kahu and Bazza are already crouched behind the wheels of the Humvee. Kat launches herself to her feet, racing behind the Humvee.

_Horokia, get the vehicle started,_ she throws into the pack-sense, _Landers, get up top. Everyone in!_ She throws out a net of _calm-fight-action-brothers_ , suppressing the thin thread of terror that is escaping from someone. She toggles her mic, “LDO Five-Bravo to PRT Base. LDO Five-Bravo to PRT Base. We are under fire. Minimum number hostiles: ten. Effecting egress. Over.”

“PRT Base to LDO Five-Bravo. Solid copy, under fire by ten hostiles, egressing. Two reinforcements mobilising. Over and out.” The high cracks of the Steyrs and M16 mix with the flatter sound of the AKs, the Kiwis and American doing disciplined double-taps and short bursts, the hostiles much less controlled. Excitement and adrenaline are overwhelming.

Horokia dives into the Humvee, the diesel turning over with a cough and sudden roar. _Thank god_ echoes through the pack-sense. Landers is next in, popping the ringmount hatch and continuing to lay down fire from the top of the vehicle. The wolves by the Humvee crowd in, dropping into the armoured boxes beneath the seats that are provided to protect them.

Siggy races across from the ditch – and there’s a sudden yelp, and shocked pain spreads through the pack-sense. There’s bright blood welling on Siggy’s white shoulder. Without direction, Balmer dives into the Humvee, over his wolf, beginning to fire, and the two of them go dark in the pack-sense as Balmer blocks them.

Kat fires off another burst and leaps for the door – it thumps against her shoulder – and she pushes _GO_ into the pack-sense like a prayer.

The engine howls, and they’re racing away, the road bumpy and rough, Landers still firing above their heads, and relief comes crowding in. Kat’s still surging with adrenaline as she grabs the radio handset, “LDO Five-Bravo to PRT Base. LDO Five-Bravo to PRT Base. Egress successful. One whiskey casualty, minimal. Enroute to base. Over.”

“PRT Base to LDO Five-Bravo. Solid copy. Two reinforcements enroute. Over,” Scott sounds as cool and calm as ever. Perhaps it’s Kat’s racing blood that makes it sound slow. She grins, acknowledging and signing off. She feels like she can breathe again.

She looks back, and taps Landers on the leg. _Back in, we’re clear now. First aid for Siggy._ “You guys heard that. We’ll RTB, get our shit checked out, debrief. Good work.” She looks over at Balmer, who’s still facing out the window, tensely alert. “Landers, get on first aid. Balmer, you can release your pack-sense block.”

There’s a brief rush of _Thanks_ in the pack-sense, and then the blank spot fills. Siggy’s in some serious pain, and instantly, without thinking, everyone directs calming and soothing feelings into the pack-sense. Balmer sags against the door, relief clear in the pack-sense, his M16 clanking against the frame. “Thank you, ma’am,” he repeats aloud, then asks, “Does Landers have wolf first aid?”

“Everyone does,” Landers answers him as he comes down, fishing in the back for the wolf first aid kit. 

Kat turns back to her window, catching a glance and a private, sharp-tuned thought from Horokia, _Everyone should._ He rolls his eyes. _Too right,_ she replies, and turns to the window, hands on her weapon, eyes sharp, covering her sector.

They don’t even have to touch the pack-sense to feel Balmer’s frown. “But what about medics?” he asks, even as he moves aside for Landers to help Siggy move. Bazza is licking Siggy’s nose, calming him.

Kat squishes the annoyance at the question before it even surfaces. “We don’t always have medics available. Everyone should know the basics of wolf and human first aid,” she answers, straight out of the pamphlet. “The quicker basic help is with them, the more likely medics are to save their lives. Landers has more advanced training than the rest of us, so he’s up.” 

_Curry_ , she taps him in the pack-sense, _look out for hostiles on your side._ Wolf eyes will have to do for cover – Landers is busy, Balmer is distracted, Horokia is driving. The wolf acknowledges, popping up between Horokia’s legs and leaning out the window, careful not to interfere with the driving. Kahu anticipates her request, scrambling back, taking Balmer’s seat. _Watching, listening, smelling,_ she says to Kat, amusement in her tone. _Wolf eyes will have to do._

They push on, Horokia taking them back to base by the fastest route.

\---

Two more Humvees – one with a fifty-cal mounted up – meet them halfway, forming into convoy with them. Once they hit base, they’re met by medics, mechanics, and other support personnel; Balmer goes off to the medical facility with Siggy.

Back in the PRT pack-sense, Kat receives the scent-name greeting of Major King’s wolf, Lawrence – _volcanic rocks dashed by surf_ – and the message, _All six of you come see us, debrief._ Kahu acknowledges with their scent-names, throwing anxiousness at Kat. “We did it all right – by the book,” says Kat, then quickly turns to Landers and Horokia, telling them about the debrief.

As they trot down the hallway, Sergeant Miller and Ivy are heading in the opposite direction. He salutes quickly. “I see you got tagged, sir,” he says, “I heard it on the pack-sense. Bad?”

“Apart from Siggy getting hit, not really,” Kat replies, “And I didn’t get tagged,” she adds. Wordlessly, Miller points to her shoulder, amusement curling through the pack-sense. She looks down, seeing one side of her tac vest hanging from half the strap. The rest is shredded, and the padding underneath is ripped up. “Huh,” she says, “Guess I did.” _Pain to replace,_ she thinks, annoyed.

“Couple of centimetres down, and you’d know all about it,” puts in Landers, clearly catching her annoyance. “It’s always a pain to have to one-for-one a vest.” Horokia is grinning cheekily, and Kat smiles, shaking her head as she catches his amusement.

“Have fun with the debrief, sir,” says Miller with a quick smile, heading away with a salute.

_He isn’t usually around here,_ says Kahu privately to Kat. Abruptly, Kat realises that Kahu is right. _Probably needed to talk to someone, maybe check something,_ she says, dismissing it and focussing on the debrief.

\---

The debrief is torturous – as they always are – but once it’s done, the six of them head to Medical to check on Siggy and Balmer. As they enter, Siggy walks out, slightly unevenly, a US Combat Medic at his side. He has a big bandage across his wounded shoulder, unusually flat, and Kat guesses they’d shaved the fur around the wound. Balmer follows, busily signing forms on a clipboard.

 _You okay?_ Kahu asks Siggy. The white wolf grins over at her, _I’ll have a pretty scar now._ Curry and Bazza join the other two wolves, nosing Siggy’s bandage and generally making sure he’s okay.

Balmer looks up, and smiles to them. “Hello, ma’am, Corporal, Sapper. Thanks for coming around, Siggy’s all seen to.”

“Good to see. Back to normal in no time, I’m sure.” Kat grins down at the white wolf, _Good to see you’re in one piece._ “We’ve done the debrief,” she adds, “Nothing to worry about there.”

Balmer nods. “Just wanted to say, thank you all for what you did. Especially you, Landers.” He looks over to Landers; the Corporal nods. There’s a whisper in the pack-sense, a private conversation between them – their wolves briefly look over at them, then back. They’re grinning at each other, so Kat supposes it’s all okay. They shake hands, and then Balmer turns back to the rest of the group. “I think drinks are on me tonight.”

Horokia grins. “What, juice in the mess, sir?” _Because it’s not like there’s any alcohol around,_ flicks through the pack-sense. 

“Guess so,” Balmer grins. “It’s on me, anyway.”

Kat grins, happy within the comradeship of the PRT pack.

\---

Kat walks slowly out the gate, Kahu at her side. Her hand rests on the wolf’s neck, as it always does when she needs comfort. The sky is starting to darken, and the tops of the mountains are kissed by the flames of sunset. There’s ice in the air, a bite that speaks of snow tonight. Quietly, she makes her way down the path to where two of the soldiers are guarding the airfield. Given the airfield is pretty much a glorified strip of flat ground, there’s not much to watch, but they and their wolves still look reasonably alert and observant.

“Evening, sir,” they greet her, and she nods in return; their wolves greet each other by scent-names. She recognises them as two of the Logistics soldiers, but doesn’t know them personally.

“Just going to jog the airfield,” she says, “Haven’t gone for a decent run in a while.” _Since we left NZ,_ she drops in the pack-sense, and the two nod.

“Of course, sir,” the younger man puts in. “Mind if Sprite goes with you?” He gestures to his wolf – a young Arctic with hints of grey and cream on his flanks – and asks the question again, in the pack-sense. Immediately, the wolf’s head goes up, a flare of happiness in the pack-sense and an acute _I was totally wanting a run._

Kat laughs at the young wolf’s obvious boredom, and smiles over to the soldier – Corporal Ariki? She can’t quite remember – “No problem at all.”

The airfield is a good two-and-a-bit kilometres long, and her feet pound the hard ground as she stretches into a run. The wolves run at her side; after the initial greeting and exchange of scent-names – Sprite is _beach barbeque in summer_ – they’re mostly silent except for occasional remarks across the pack-sense at each other.

Kat has time to think.

She’s been putting it off, ignoring the issue, but she has to confront it, sooner or later. Her parents don’t want to talk to her. It’s a fair assumption that her father will have the same opinion as her mother; they think so alike after thirty years of marriage. Perhaps it’s just that they’re too worried, and the issues with contact make it worse.

Had they really decided that no contact was better?

They are her next-of-kin. They’ll know if she is injured or killed.

And that is the root of the problem, she sighs. They didn’t want her in Afghanistan. They didn’t want her overseas. Effectively, they’d be most happy if she wasn’t in the Army.

It saddens her, and she shakes her head. Kahu crowds in to her side, feeling the sadness, the pain with her human. Kat kneads her hand along the wolf’s neck, through the thick fur. _I don’t know if there’s anything I can do_ , Kat says across the bond. 

They _were the ones who left_ you, Kahu points out, with undeniable wolf-logic. _You can’t really do anything._

_You’re right, I can’t,_ Kat replies. _But I chose this. This is my job, my career, my_ life. _I don’t know what I’d be doing if I wasn’t in the Army._ She honestly can’t. This is what she wants to do – what she’s always wanted to do. This brings her satisfaction, fulfilment. She bows her head, looking down at the packed earth, stretching her strides and pushing herself.

Her mother had said to talk when she gets back to New Zealand.

It is obvious: they want her to retire after that, and that’s not happening. They don’t want her in the Army, and there is no place she’d rather be. _And you have me, too,_ points out Kahu. _I like active duty, you know that._

Kat strokes Kahu’s neck briefly, replying, _Yes; and so do I._ Her heart sinks at the possibility of going on base duty; it’s boring as all fuck, and not what she wants to do. Being out there, doing something, is what she’s in this for. Today’s ambush on the road had only confirmed it. The adrenaline, the accomplishment, the sense of pride at getting her men/wolves out alive, only confirmed what she’d already known; that _doing something_ was what she wanted to do. Action is what she’s made for.

They hit the end of the airfield and turn, circling back. 

It comes down to the fact that her choices, ultimately, have gone against her parents’ ideals, and what they wanted their daughter to do with her life. However painful it is to admit it, they may take their censure to its final conclusion: no further contact.

What matters is that she’s _made_ choices, and is sticking to them. They’re good choices, honourable choices, a warrior’s choices, and if they can’t live with them... then so be it. _You chose your Pack,_ says Kahu, and that’s exactly it. She has chosen her Pack, and if she has no family other than her Pack, it doesn’t matter.

_We’ll always be your Pack,_ says Kahu. _You’re part of the Great Pack, and you will never be alone, no matter what your dam and sire do._ She seems determined that whatever happens, Kat won’t be alone. It brings a smile to Kat’s lips, because she knows she’ll never be alone – not with Kahu around.

_Sometimes it’s hard,_ she replies to the wolf. _I do love my parents, for all their faults._ She smiles, remembering their happiness – her happiness last Christmas. It brings another pang of sadness. _I guess all I can do is try to make them see._

Kahu considers this, and then sends acknowledgement, laced with love of her human and the unshakeable bond that they share. _If they don’t understand, it doesn’t matter,_ she adds – making sure, in typical wolf-fashion, that the message has got across.

Kat nods, stroking the wolf’s neck and head again. _It doesn’t matter,_ she acknowledges, _because I will move on, and I will never be alone._ She looks up at the snowy mountains ahead of her, the ruins of the ancient city of Gholghola, considering that in all the thousands of years that people and their wolves had lived here, this had probably had happened many times. For some reason, it’s comforting that on the grand scheme of things, this isn’t all that bad. 

She smiles, suddenly feeling much more on-balance. Looking down at Kahu, she smiles, reaching across the bond with her much-better frame of mind. Kahu grins up at her, tongue lolling out happily.

Kat laughs, suddenly feeling lighter. Taking her hand off Kahu’s neck, she lunges out, suddenly breaking into a sprint.

_No fair!_ the wolf complains across the bond, laughing and reassured, and comes after her, feet racing across the rough ground. Sprite follows her.

The wind is in her hair – icy-cold and bitter; the earth is beneath her feet – solid, unyielding, grounding; and her wolf chases her, alive and warm and undeniably the best thing in her life.


End file.
